


Moments in time

by china_shop



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Picnics, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 07:43:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5997370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/china_shop/pseuds/china_shop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three picnics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moments in time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [veleda_k](https://archiveofourown.org/users/veleda_k/gifts).



> Many thanks to Sherylyn for beta/Ameripicking.

1\. 

“What is it, Nick? I’m not working late for _fun_. I’ve got a lot on my plate.” Kate hurried into the boardroom with her phone to her ear and stopped dead.

“Surprise!” said Nick, lowering his own phone. “I know you’re busy, but you still have to eat.”

The table was laden with deliciously fragrant takeout from her favorite Vietnamese restaurant—the packaging piled conspicuously in the trash in the corner—plated to perfection on the expensive boardroom china. A bottle of red Kate could only hope Nick hadn’t appropriated from their boss’s personal collection was breathing in the center of the table next to the roses and lit candles. Heavy silverware gleamed—Nick must have brought that in himself. Chamber music played softly, tinkling like a stream. 

After working late every night this week, the whole scene was an oasis. It took her breath away. 

She eyed Nick sternly to compensate. “I’ve already ordered pizza.”

“I intercepted your order and cancelled it,” said Nick. “This is better, don’t you think?” There was just the barest hint of vulnerability about him, as if he thought she really might be mad. And he needed a haircut.

Kate belatedly disconnected the call and slid the phone into her pocket, then folded her arms to keep from going over and smoothing his locks. “A La Saigon doesn’t deliver.”

“I convinced them.”

Kate sighed and licked her lips. She shouldn’t encourage him, but Michael was in Chicago on business. And it was lemongrass chicken, her favorite. And Nick had gone to so much trouble. She’d always found resourcefulness attractive. “I suppose I can take a quick break.”

 

2\. 

“This must be the place,” came Neal’s voice from outside.

Kate shoved her book into her bag and sat up hastily, checking her pockets for the lighter. She hadn’t known how long it would take Neal to get here, so she’d opted for a cold spread, and she’d been picking at the salad for the last half-hour. She ran her tongue over her teeth to dislodge any greenery, lit the candles and flicked on the playlist she’d made specially.

“I don’t know,” came Mozzie’s voice. “It doesn’t look like much.”

Kate smacked her palm to her forehead. She’d spent so long devising the clues for her surprise treasure hunt, planting them around the city and choosing appropriate music, it had never occurred to her to specify No Mozzie.

“You’re the one who’s always saying appearances can be deceiving,” said Neal, over the faint scrape of the lock being picked.

“I mean there’s no security, not even a motion sensor,” said Mozzie, ignoring him. “What kind of hidden treasure is this?”

“The romantic kind,” said Kate, as the two of them burst into the storage unit and stood staring dumbfounded at her and her table with its plates of sliced ham, crusty bread rolls and green salad.

“Kate?” said Neal. “What’s going on?”

“You and Mozzie mastermind all the jobs,” said Kate. “I thought it was my turn.”

Mozzie held up both hands in confusion. “Wait, it was _your_ treasure hunt?”

Kate really did facepalm at that. “Obviously.”

“Well, I take my hat off to your hitherto unsuspected inner Machiavelli,” he said, literally doffing his cap. “And now I’ll be going. Empty-handed.”

“Bye, Moz,” said Neal absently. He came closer, his eyes fixed on her, frowning slightly. “And all this is for—”

“You,” said Kate. “Haven’t you ever heard of Valentine’s Day?”

“I bought champagne and strawberries—they’re in the fridge at the apartment.”

“I’m sure, but I wanted to do something for you this time.” Kate didn’t know why this was so hard a concept to grasp, but it seemed to finally be getting through. 

He skirted the table, pulled her out of her chair and kissed her, lushly, gratefully. “I love it. I love you.” Then he pulled back and grinned. “Only—maybe next time leave a signature with the clues?”

 

3.

“Just like I promised,” said Neal, giving Kate a hand up from the fire escape. “No security cameras.”

Kate looked around the roof, the old, dirty brick and concrete, the satellite dishes. No cameras. She’d been on edge about their chosen lifestyle ever since a near miss with a pair of security guards a few weeks ago, and this was part of what Mozzie termed her desensitization program: a trespass picnic. 

Neal had already taken off his gloves and was unpacking his backpack: picnic blanket, hotdogs from the cart down the street—the best in Manhattan, he claimed—plastic goblets, their Bordeaux bottle.

Kate went over, uncorked the bottle and poured herself a glass, took a sip. It was apple cider. She grinned at Neal. “Playing safe for once?”

“We can’t have you falling off the fire escape on the way down. That would kind of defeat the purpose.” He left the pile of picnic gear and came over to take her hand, studying her protectively. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” she said. Neal had chosen a building taller than its neighbors, and Kate felt free up here, no one to see them, no security. She pulled his arms around her, snuggling into his embrace. “Better than okay. Hungry.”

“Insatiable girl.” He stroked up and down her back, obviously savoring her with his hands, then let her go and handed her a hotdog.

“Oh, hey,” she said, surveying their mini-feast. “You forgot dessert.”

“Nope.” He sat down beside her and unwrapped his own sandwich. “Remember that little gallery across the street? For dessert, I’m getting you a Raphael.”

Kate looked at him, her sweet, beautiful, brilliant thief who was utterly unable to resist the grand gesture, especially when it involved grand larceny, and her blood sang with love and excitement. She laughed. “ _We’re_ getting a Raphael,” she said. “Why should you have all the fun?”

 

END


End file.
